An Odd Turn of Events
by Emma-Kate9885
Summary: It's post war. All the seventh years are returning to the castle to finish out their classes. Everyone is unable to grasp how they're supposed to act around each other. Bonds have been tied and then broken and every soul exposed to the war could be a ticking time bomb of sanity. Things known will become uncertain, and in the madness is heartbreak, fury, and magical beings revealed.


**So this was a complete spur of the moment story, but I think you'll enjoy it. I also have no clue what to name it right now, but oh well. I suppose I'll figure it out as I write it. Haha. Enjoy.**

The late summer wind was blowing softly, stirring the leaves in the trees and the petals on flowers, consequently sending sweet smelling wisps to tickle the nose of a young girl standing on the doorstep of a house marked with a number 8. She was clad in strange robes, paired with a tie, knee-high stockings, and hideous black chucks she somehow made work. She was facing away from the door, looking out onto the horizon where the sun was setting slowly, painting the sky in hues of soft pink, orange, and yellow light. The colors reflected of her face, giving her a glowing appearance as her eyes danced in wonder and sorrow. She was leaving something behind. Something she cared for very much.

Taking a deep breath of the sweet scented, freshly cut grass aroma she loved so much, the young woman glanced down the streets she knew so well. Glancing through the window of the house, she saw her parents sitting together in the den, drinking tea. They peaked up to see her and gave a small smile and a wave. She would be back. Returning their gestures of farewell, the girl took her first steps off down the street. This was hard for her. Leaving her parents. She had just gotten them back after having to wipe their memory of her clean. That is the most miserable thing to ever go through, having the ones you care about most forget you, and she never wanted to experience that again. There would always be a part of her that worried about the amnesia to return, but deep down she knew that they would be okay. This is what made saying goodbye lighter. It wasn't easy, by far, but it was not quite as hard by comparison. It had been for their safety anyways, removing all memory of herself. There had been a war, and no parents of the most wanted witch in all of London would be safe.

The war was over now. It had been a battle that changed many lives. For the better for some, and for the worst for others. Some even had the scars to prove it. She had been one of the luckier ones, suffering little to no physical harm herself or her family. All she had were ugly scars on her right arm, carved by an evil woman, but those were covered for the majority by her long-sleeved collared shirts and robes. That woman was dead now, the scars only a reminder. The scary part was the nightmares. The war had left intangible scars, emotional and mental scars. They were the kind of scars that affected anyone and everyone on both sides of the battle. We all can recover from physical pain, but emotional, spiritual, and mental charring is etched in one's brain for a lifetime. It's almost as if the victim is stuck in a hamster wheel, continually cursed to run the course or be swallowed by the never-ending fear and darkness that surrounds them. Life was cruel in this way.

There was much good which came about because of the war. Everyone got to return to school. It had been repaired by the best of wizards, and the third floor which had been empty since her first year, would be refinished for extra classroom and dormitory space. It was temporary, only for this year as more first years would come up to join those whose education was rudely halted the year previously. The girl herself had helped to set up the system. The new comers of this year would stay in the new dorms where there was no room, and all the other students would take extra classes, expertly set out to be manageable in order for all the students to graduate on time. There would only be a doubly larger class graduating this year – the senior class (the eighth years') and the seventh years, giving those who were en route to graduate before the war another chance to get their degrees/diplomas and recommendations.

The girl smiled to herself, her wild, brown, curly tendrils whipping about her face in the summer breeze. Her hair would no doubt be a nuisance to some, but untamed as it may be, she loved it. The upside was that it was slightly more controllable than it had been years previously. Sighing, the girl carried on. She had with her, a rather large suitcase that had not been noticed before as she stood by the doorstep at the house marked with an '8'. It stood tall, coming up to just beneath her ribs. It was almost intimidating in its bulk. However heavy it may have appeared, the girl seemed to have no problem in lugging it behind her. She was swiftly moving along before oddly slowing abruptly and turning into a fenced area not too far from her childhood home. It was a playground. It seemed it hadn't been used in ages. The grass was in desperate need of a mow and the trees had become as bushy and untamable as her hair, providing an eerie silence and cover to the area. _Yes,_ she thought. This was the place.

Leaving her luggage in a shady patch easy to find, the young woman began to explore the area. As she approached the swing set, her mind's eye drifted to another well-known place. Her eyes became glazed and distant as she sat in the swing, remembering. In her vision she saw a child of about eleven with the same bright and intelligent eyes and bushy hair as herself, swinging high in the little seat. _"Daddy, look at me!"_ she yelled to him in an elated yelp, _"I can fly!"_ With these words she leaped out of the swing, giving the man assumed to be her father a start before she seemingly hovered in the air a moment and slowly floated down. Her father lifted her in his arms. He was not exactly an old man, rather aged in wisdom beyond his years just like his daughter now, giving him the aura of authority and guidance. His eyes, though, were filled with kindness and acceptance. He smiled at his daughter and shook his head in a what-to-do-with-you manner. He scolded her gently, _"Love, you know you aren't supposed to do things like that out here. But it was wonderful."_

"_I just wanted to show you,"_ she responded innocently. Her father smiled again as he kissed her head, _"You don't have to show me for me to know you're special, dear."_

The flashback ended, the girl smiling to herself as if sharing a private joke. She allowed herself a glance around the area. It had gotten darker, and the time had come away from her. The sky was now a soft blue fading into a lavender with pink still holding onto the horizon. It was time to go. With one last lingering look upon her beloved childhood sanctuary, the girl limbered gracefully to her suitcase. Gazing about to see no one was in sight, she turned to the trees and began walking into the shadows. From anyone observing from the street, they would have had just enough time the see a rather large suitcase embroidered with the initials _H.G._ before being pulled into the shadows and vanishing with the last light of dusk.


End file.
